


The Perfect Gift

by missbecky



Category: Kingsman: The Secret Service (2015)
Genre: Anniversary, Fluff, M/M, Romance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-08-30
Updated: 2015-08-30
Packaged: 2018-04-18 05:05:54
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,074
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4693136
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/missbecky/pseuds/missbecky
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Eggsy and Harry's first anniversary is coming up and Eggsy is panicking a bit because he has no idea what to get Harry, who is practically perfect and who already has everything. Little does he know that Harry is panicking, too.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Perfect Gift

**Author's Note:**

  * For [](https://archiveofourown.org/gifts).



The one-year anniversary of V-Day is a somber one around the globe, filled with vigils and memorials and moving tributes. Schools and businesses are closed, but hospitals and cemeteries do a brisk business.

Eggsy stays in. He went to the cemetery and paid his respects to Ryan yesterday, and his mum knows better than to expect him to visit. If it were up to him, he would spend the entire day in bed, avoiding the endless news coverage, the tearful reminders of what happened a year ago, all those people telling their _where were you on V-Day?_ stories.

He can't stay in bed all day, though, and he knows it.

So he drags himself up and he takes a shower, and he thinks of something Roxy told him a few days ago. "Everyone is so focused on what they lost that day," she had said. "But I think we should remember what we still have."

He counts them off as he stands there with the hot water beating down on his head. He still has Roxy. Merlin. Jamal. His mum and his sister.

And he has Harry.

And in the end, that's what matters.

So Eggsy spends V-Day curled up on the couch with Harry, watching old movies on DVD. They don't say much – but they don't have to.

All day long, that's where they are. They pause long enough to make dinner, but they eat it in front of the TV. They trade off places on the couch, sometimes sitting, sometimes lying down. Eggsy dozes off during an action movie that manages to be the most boring thing he's ever seen, and wakes up with a cramp in his neck and Harry's fingers gently carding through his hair. During _Casablanca_ he sits up all proper while Harry stretches out flat on his back, feet on the armrest and his head on a pillow in Eggsy's lap.

After dinner they eat ice cream straight out of the carton and some of it drips on Eggsy's jeans. He starts to stand up, and Harry says, "Let me." Eggsy goes still, and Harry rubs his fingertip through the ice cream pooling on Eggsy's thigh, and then touches Eggsy's parted lips.

Eggsy licks the ice cream off, then closes his mouth over Harry's finger and sucks.

Their eyes meet, and that's all the encouragement Eggsy needs.

It's nearly midnight by the time they're both finally worn out and ready for sleep. Eggsy lies on his side, his head on Harry's pillow, and thinks that all things considered, today didn't go too badly. He reaches out and lightly traces the scar that winds its way across Harry's forehead and down his temple. He thinks about the people he's lost in his life, and the ones he's found.

And it occurs to him that in spite of the awfulness of this day, he's actually happy.

****

V-Day was an anniversary Eggsy didn't want to celebrate, but in a way it's a good thing, because its arrival heralds yet another anniversary looming ahead. And this is one he can't wait to observe.

In a few weeks, he and Harry will celebrate their one-year anniversary.

He's never been the kind of guy who's very good with dates and things like that. But this is different. This is something special. This is a kiss at dawn on the front lawn of Kingsman HQ, his eyes still swollen from crying, Harry wearing his red dressing gown over his pajamas and slippers that were wet with dew. This is a starburst of joy cutting sharply through the pain and grief and guilt, and the way the new day had suddenly gone bright with revelation.

This is what he remembers. The beginning of this amazing thing he has with Harry. Some days he still can't believe it's real, that it turned out to be that kind of movie after all. Other days he doesn't think about it, he just lives his life, waking up beside Harry in the morning, going to bed with him at night, and saving the world in between.

And now it's been a whole year. And more than anything, Eggsy wants their anniversary to be special. He wants Harry to know how much Eggsy loves him.

Obviously Harry already _knows_. Eggsy is not stingy with the words. Kentucky and V-Day taught a simple but harsh lesson: the last time you see someone might in fact be the last time you see them.

He's taken that lesson to heart, and he knows Harry has, too. They might argue and go to bed sullen and silent, but they never part in anger; any issues between them are resolved before one of them walks out that door. He's generous with his smiles and his jokes, and Harry gives freely of his praise and those little touches on Eggsy's shoulder or his back, the ones that always send a little shiver of warmth through Eggsy's entire body. In public they are generally proper and appropriate, but behind closed doors, all bets are off.

So yeah, Harry knows. But still. It's their anniversary. It's the one day a year that's supposed to be all about them. It has to be perfect.

If only he knew what to get Harry.

****

"I know you're not terribly interested in hearing about this again," Harry starts, "but—"

"Oh, no, you're wrong," Merlin says smoothly as he dumps sugar into his tea.

"Oh?" Harry says, brightening with sudden hope. Maybe he's had the wrong end of the stick all this time.

"I'm not interested _at all_ ," Merlin says. He sets the spoon down with a decidedly annoyed clink.

Harry glares at him. There are times – although not many, to be honest – when even their long friendship isn't enough to keep him from wanting to do serious harm to Merlin.

This is most definitely one of those times.

"I'm trying to be serious here," he says.

"Yes, Harry," Merlin says, raising his voice a little with exasperation. "I'm well aware. You've already told me this at least five times."

"I'm sure you're exaggerating," Harry says coolly, "and you're missing the point. The point is—"

"The point is that your anniversary with Eggsy is rapidly approaching and you don't know what to get him," Merlin says. He raises his teacup and speaks over it, eyebrows raised. "You see? I _do_ pay attention."

There is nothing he can say to this, so Harry doesn't even bother trying.

It's all true, though. He has two weeks to think of the perfect gift for Eggsy, and although he's already been wracking his brain for days, he's no closer to finding the answer to his dilemma.

The problem is that everything he can think of just feels _wrong._ It's too old-fashioned, or posh, or stuffy. All his gift ideas only seem to highlight the differences between them, not only the many years, but the experience, the family history, the financial background. And any attempt at gifting Eggsy with something more current, more popular, more trendy, only comes across as a pathetic attempt at showing that he can keep up with the times.

In short, it's hopeless.

"Harry." Merlin sounds gentler now, more reassuring now that he's had his tea. "You'll think of something." He smiles a little. "You always do."

This is true, Harry admits. Often his solutions to a particular problem are unorthodox, but they _do_ work. He has to trust that somewhere out there is the perfect gift for Eggsy. Something to show how very much he loves Eggsy. He isn't always the best at saying the words out loud – although he does try – but he hopes Eggsy knows how he feels, anyway.

That is one thing he's never held back. From that very first day, defying doctor's orders to make his slow, painful way through the halls of HQ, he has never been shy about showing Eggsy how much he cares. Their first kiss happened because words failed him, because he was filled with an unreasoning terror at the thought of Eggsy walking away and losing him forever.

And when Eggsy kissed him back, everything else had just fallen away into complete insignificance.

Now, one year later, Eggsy still makes him feel that way.

He just wishes he knew what to give Eggsy that would tell him that.

****

"Face it, Rox. It's hopeless." With a dramatic groan, Eggsy flops back on the couch.

From her comfortable chair, Roxy looks at him without sympathy. But of course she doesn't get it. There's just one week to go, and he's no closer to figuring out what to get Harry for their anniversary.

"He's already got everything, yeah? And he's _perfect_ ," Eggsy sighs. Normally Harry's perfection is a good thing. Not now, though. Now it's ruining his anniversary even before it arrives. "Me, I can't even think of one single fucking gift!"

"Eggsy, nobody is perfect," Roxy says in those dry tones that remind him – sometimes with a genuine jolt of surprise – that she comes from a very posh background. "Not even Harry Hart."

Instantly offended on Harry's behalf, Eggsy scowls. But then he has to admit, "Yeah, I guess. He does have this annoying habit of getting up in the middle of the night and –"

"I don't want to know!" Roxy says quickly, holding both hands up like she can physically keep the words from entering her ears.

"—checking the doors and windows," Eggsy finishes, giving her a look. And to think people accuse _him_ of having his mind in the gutter.

"Oh," Roxy says, dropping her hands and backpedaling a little. "Well. I mean. That's not so bad."

"Yeah, but it wakes me up _every time_ ," he complains.

"But you love him anyway," Roxy says.

"Fuck yeah I do," Eggsy says with feeling.

Roxy smiles. "Then it doesn't matter what you get him. He'll love it because it comes from you. That's what counts."

Eggsy throws his head back to rest on the top of the couch and groans again, real loud. "I _knew_ you were gonna say that."

****

The life of a Kingsman agent being what it is, they're not at home on the day of their anniversary. Having fully expected this, however, Harry came prepared.

As they'll be spending most of the day in surveillance, he decides to give Eggsy his gift first thing in the morning. It's very early, the sky still dark outside their hotel room window. Their mark keeps erratic hours, but one thing remains consistent: he is always up early.

At least the hotel provides a solid breakfast.

Harry switches the lamp on and kisses Eggsy awake, mindful of the fact that he hasn't brushed his teeth yet. "Good morning, dearest."

Eggsy makes a fuzzy noise that's probably meant to signify his awake status. He cracks open one eye. "Gyuh."

Harry smiles. Even half-asleep, hair tousled all over, cheeks stubbled, breath horrible, Eggsy is beautiful. "Happy Anniversary."

"Mmm," Eggsy says, a bit more urgently. Both eyes fly open. "Whaaah?"

Trying very hard not to laugh, Harry leans down and kisses his forehead. "Time to get up," he says.

He showers quickly, and when he comes out, Eggsy is standing in front of the TV, arms above his head as he stretches and yawns. In that pose, with his back arched and bare chest thrust forward, he looks like a statue of a Greek god. Harry stares at him, drinking in the sight and marveling all over again that someone as amazing as Eggsy would willingly choose to be with someone like himself.

Eggsy catches the stare and drops his arms with a bashful grin. "Oops."

Harry just smiles at him.

Eggsy is quick in the bathroom, and it isn't long before he emerges in a cloud of steam and aftershave. A short while later, they're both fully dressed and ready to go downstairs for breakfast.

But first…

Nervously he holds out his gift. "I have something for you."

Eggsy looks, and his eyes widen a little, and then he says, "Yeah. Me too." He goes over to his suitcase and rummages beneath a stack of neatly folded shirts. He comes up with a box nearly the same size as Harry's, wrapped in glossy silver paper. "Happy Anniversary."

Solemnly they exchange presents. They sit on the bed, facing each other.

Slowly Harry starts to open his gift. He hopes Eggsy will like what he got for him, that it isn't too hopelessly old-fashioned, for all that he tried to modernize it as much as he could. With any luck Eggsy will smile and thank him, and that will be that.

The box beneath the silver wrapping paper is plain white except for a simple watermark in one corner. Harry sees it, judges the weight of the box and its contents, and immediately knows what he's about to see.

He takes the lid off the box, and yes, there it is.

And in spite of himself, he starts to laugh.

****

Eggsy hasn't been this nervous in a while. And over something so fucking stupid, too. He keeps telling himself to cut it out, to just let it go – but it's hard. He really wants Harry to like his gift.

He sits on the edge of the bed, one leg folded beneath him, facing Harry. The box Harry hands him is almost the same size as the one he just gave to Harry, but this one weighs almost nothing. It's covered in sleek black wrapping paper, and there is a gold ribbon tied around it. His name is written on the gift tag in Harry's slanted, elegant handwriting.

He waits a moment, unsure if he should wait for Harry to go first or something. Then he decides to hell with it. He'll just open it. At least this way he'll be busy and he won't have to see that initial look of disappointment on Harry's face.

The wrapping paper is so nice, he almost hates to rip it. The box itself is plain white. He takes the lid off – and just as he does, Harry starts to laugh.

Eggsy stares down at his gift. He can't believe it.

Inside the box is a black digital picture frame. It's slim and lightweight. On the bottom there is a small silver plaque. Engraved upon this are three simple words: _I love you._

The frame itself is digital, but there's a printed photo placed inside. It was taken a few months ago, at a party on the spacious grounds of Kingsman HQ. The occasion had been the official crowning of Percival as their new Arthur, and nearly everyone in the organization had managed to find their way to the huge mansion that afternoon. They had shown up in their suits and ties, but within a few hours, the ties had all gone mysteriously missing, and the laughter had been much louder.

Eggsy hadn't even been aware that Merlin was taking pictures that day. Not until a couple weeks later, when it had arrived in his e-mail without a single word of comment. Just that one attachment.

The photo is of himself and Harry. They're not looking at each other, but they're both clearly enjoying themselves. Harry has his glasses on, but his tie is long gone and the top button of his shirt is undone. He's smiling widely, laugh lines crinkled up around his eyes. Although the picture doesn't show it, his right hand rests low on Eggsy's back in a gesture that makes it clear to anyone watching what he thinks of this young man beside him.

Eggsy himself is laughing, caught in a moment of pure glee. He's leaning toward Harry, half a second away from turning toward him and accusing him of making a truly lame joke. His hair is a mess and he's wearing a jacket that was just a little too warm for that afternoon. He looks happy in the picture, like he's exactly where he wants to be.

Still a little bit in shock, Eggsy picks up the picture frame. He holds it up.

Across from him, Harry raises his gift. The antique silver picture frame dates back to the Edwardian era. Eggsy had got a big kick out of the fact that it had been crafted by silversmiths called King & Sons. A delicate mass of silver ribbon adorns the top of the frame, but otherwise it is plain and unadorned. 

Nestled inside it is the exact same photograph.

Harry is still smiling, his eyes alight with amusement. "It would seem the old saying is true," he says. "Great minds do think alike."

"Fuck," Eggsy says, and he grins and shakes his head.

"I'm afraid I didn't know what to get you," Harry says, growing serious once again. "I thought this way you could put whatever you liked inside the frame. Pictures of your family, maybe…"

Appalled, Eggsy sets the digital frame back in the box. "Fuck that," he says. "I'm only puttin' pics of me and you in here."

Harry smiles, soft and tentative. "I'm glad you like it."

Eggsy gestures to the silver frame Harry is holding. "I couldn't get it engraved, sorry 'bout that."

"No, no, it's beautiful as it is," Harry says. "Just as you are to me."

Eggsy's heart does this thing where it twists in his chest, a warm and complicated glow that he gets sometimes when he thinks about Harry and everything they almost lost, and everything they have now. It almost hurts, that feeling, but he loves it anyway.

He can't say the stuff Harry says and keep a straight face. But that's okay. He doesn't have to. He just has to lean in, the way he is now. And Harry has only to set the silver frame down and meet him halfway. And then they are kissing, slow and sweet. Harry's hand rises to cradle his face, his touch sending little shivers through Eggsy, his skin prickling all over like he's on fire.

He'd like nothing more than to stay here all day, get out of these clothes they just put on, and annoy the hotel staff by refusing to let them come in and do housekeeping. But they've got a job to do. And it's a job he loves, too, although it will always come second to Harry.

So instead Eggsy just wraps both arms around Harry and hugs him tight. "Happy Anniversary."

Harry holds him close. "Happy Anniversary, Eggsy."

**Author's Note:**

> The photograph of Harry and Eggsy can be seen [here](http://www.gettyimages.com/detail/news-photo/british-actors-colin-firth-and-taron-egerton-pose-during-news-photo/462654338). 
> 
> The picture frame Eggsy gets is real, and can be seen [here](http://www.rubylane.com/item/517287-5770/Antique-Edwardian-Sterling-Silver-Bow-Ribbon).


End file.
